


June 8th

by celli



Category: Alias
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-24
Updated: 2004-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Even after all this time, June 8th is still a day I remember."</p>
            </blockquote>





	June 8th

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through third season. Written for fatema as part of mciac's Secret Santa drabble challenge. Uh, mine went slightly over the word limit. *shifty eyes* Fatema's requested color was gold, and her requested text was "It is such a secret place, the land of tears." (The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery)

After all the betrayals, all the lies, all the deaths, Danny's still seems the freshest to me sometimes. I suppose it was the first real price I paid for what I do. And when I think of everything that came from that...you could say I have regrets. About a million of them.

So even after all this time, June 8th is still a day I remember.

I wasn't too surprised when Will showed up; we've been having dinner a couple of times a week since he came home from Wisconsin. I was surprised when he brought a bottle of wine with him. "Danny's favorite," he said, not quite meeting my eyes.

I was even more surprised when my father followed him in the door.

"Your dad brought Chinese," Will said.

"I--thank you."

Dinner was...dinner was fine. A little quiet. Everything we had to say, we've already said to each other. But it was a comfortable silence. It made me think of the warmth of a good fire. Most of my other June 8ths were spent alone, or worse, on missions, hiding my tears with the rest of my secrets while I got the job done. The understanding quiet at this table was light years from the loneliness, noisy or solitary, I had dreaded.

We finished eating, and Dad topped off our wineglasses. We were silent for a moment, and I watched the wine glint gold in my hand. Then Will took a breath. "To the people we've lost," he said simply.

Dad just nodded. Of all of us, he probably had the most ghosts to bring to this table.

I looked at my father. I looked at Will. I've worked with a lot of agents since that June 8, and dragged a lot of people into this life with me. But Dad and Will have been with me, really, since the beginning. I'm so glad they were there to have dinner with me. I'm so glad I still have them both.

I tapped my glass against each of theirs, and we drank our toast.

Danny's still here with me, you know? On nights like that he's almost another presence at the table. But that night, that June 8th, he was a presence I could live with.


End file.
